Monday, July 30, 2007

Day 5, York to Bar Harbor Maine

We decided to forsake the main highway and toll roads with their high speed limits for the exploratory Route 1, meandering up the Maine coast. The morning was too foggy to photograph the light house we stopped to see, but we could make out its outline through the mists, and watched some grizzled old guys don two wet suits apiece to go scuba diving. I imagined them checking lobster traps, but who knows?

We went back up to the boardwalk area along the beach and had breakfast with a rescue team and some locals, along with a foursome of tourists at picnic tables from a self-serve window in a little shed-like kitchen. The food was great. Breakfast included wraps, which looked and tasted a lot like breakfast burritos, and dough gods, which looked just like Indian Fry Bread. "A rose by any other name" and all that...

The woods in Maine make me think of a Robert Frost poem, specifically the one that goes,

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep"

But it's not just the woods that amaze me. The meadows are ripe with wildflowers, ferns and moss. The sheer abundance of colors and greenery is a feast for the senses. Also, I notice so many contrasts. There's an ultra-modern building mere blocks from a very old church with an incredibly tall steeple, a cemetery tucked behind it with stones too old to be easily read. The architechtural styles are varied as well, from grand cathedrals, although on the small side, with flying buttresses, to miniature libraries and court houses done in federalist style; Cape Cod homes grace the lawns next door to the gingerbread of Princess Anne's. (OK, yes. I did take a 7 unit class on history and architecture. It was one of those classes where you learn things you really will want to know for a lifetime from a professor - thanks, Mr. Bettini - you wish you could keep in the back seat.)

John was fascinated by the strobe running through the diameter of the red lights on the stop lights It sure makes the red stand out. He thinks the slit that the strobe shines through might be as wide as an inch, but would really like to measure it. He doesn't think he could get a ladder up there, and was thinking it would be great to have a cherry picker to get up there. I thought maybe Ben's friend could drive over with his crane and just joist John up with his calipers. Now that would stop traffic!

Interesting things we saw that made us wonder:

There was a sign for Scarborough Downs. It proudly advertised "Live Harness Racing." (Now, I ask you. What's the alternative? The answer to that is rather gross.)

New Lobster Rolls. (Old Lobster Rolls?) (Used Lobster Rolls?)

Pedro O'Hara's Mexican Irish Cruisine. (What can I say?)

I finally found Washington D.C. and Delaware license plates today. They were at the L.L. Bean store. Figures. But I also found Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, two I'd never found before. One thing I've noticed is that no matter where you go, you always find license plates from California and Florida. I've figured out why, since I've been to both of those places, but I'm not going to say why I think they keep leaving their states. If you really know me, you know what my opinion is anyway. We can leave it there.